


holding cell

by vonseal



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character(s), Prison, jail cell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: dongmin finds himself stuck in jail. his cellmate is pretty cute, though.
Relationships: Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Park Minhyuk | Rocky
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	holding cell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InterstellarBlue (nagi_schwarz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/gifts).



> this is a gift for the lovely [nagi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/InterstellarBlue) who had requested an eunky prompt of "waiting in a holding cell together for our friends to bail us out and you're unexpectedly cool au." i hope i delivered!

It was all Myungjun’s fault.

It was usually all Myungjun’s fault, but  _ definitely _ this time, Dongmin could say with one hundred percent certainty that it was all Myungjun’s fault. 

_ It’s perfectly legal to explore this abandoned house in the middle of the night _ , Myungjun had assured him, dragging him forward with a surprisingly strong grip.  _ I’ve totally done it before, so don’t worry about getting in trouble! Besides, I’m friends with police. _

Except Myungjun had totally  _ not _ done it before, and he was  _ scared _ of police, to the point he darted at the first sign of trouble and left Dongmin there to awkwardly try and come up with an explanation as to what he was doing alone in an abandoned house in the middle of the night.

His anxiety levels had been high. He had been stuttering and whimpering and trying his best to focus on the questions being asked, all while his mind went in panic mode. 

It was his nervous laughter, though, that finally did him in, because he managed to laugh the moment one of the policemen asked, “Have you taken drugs, sir?”

Laughter. Handcuffs. Boom, he was in jail.

He sat on a bench with a few other men beside him. Most of them seemed drunk; one kept banging on the bars, as if his persistence would convince the police that he was an upstanding citizen worthy of release. Another one had been chanting prayers and had asked Dongmin, wide-eyed and clearly on something, if he was Christ coming to collect his followers.

Dongmin had chosen not to answer. He was scared he would cry if he opened his mouth.

One of the policemen had called Jinwoo. Dongmin wasn’t able to hear the conversation on Jinwoo’s side, but he listened warily as the policeman explained his concerns.

“He was found in an abandoned building. He might have drugs in his system — we’ll have to do a drug test to see.” Dongmin groaned and cursed his own stupidity (and cursed Kim Myungjun above all else). “You’ll just have to pay his bail, but it’s set rather low until we figure out whether or not he’s on drugs. Yes, sir, I understand, but he never said he  _ wasn’t _ on drugs.”

Dongmin decided that it would be a good time to defend himself. “I wasn’t,” he stated.

The policeman glanced at him, and Dongmin repeated himself, a bit louder. “I wasn’t on drugs. I mean, I’m not. I’m not on drugs.”

In response, the policeman grunted. “He says he isn’t. We’ll do a drug test, just to make sure.”

Damn Myungjun. Damn him to hell.

Dongmin had to piss in a cup. It was embarrassing and humiliating, but the lady taking the cup of urine had given him a smile and said, “You don’t seem like you’re on drugs.”

“I’m not,” Dongmin weakly muttered, knowing that it was useless now to defend himself when they already had what they wanted out of him.

He was escorted back to his cell and found that his seat was taken by a newcomer. The newcomer was young with dyed hair and piercings in his ears. He had sharp cheekbones and tanned skin, and he wore a black outfit with chains and leather. Dongmin stared, a bit too openly, until the newcomer asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” Dongmin replied, but then he added, “You took my seat.”

The young man narrowed his eyes.

“But that’s fine,” Dongmin continued, “I didn’t like that seat, anyway.”

“Mm.” The man leaned back against the wall, ignoring the other men who were glancing in his general direction.

One of the men, the one who was still fervent in his prayers, asked the newcomer, “Are you Satan? Are you sent here to test me and tempt me?”

The newcomer pursed his lips and responded with his own question, “How am I tempting you?”

“You’re a young man. You have piercings. I like piercings. Do you have tattoos?” The look in the praying man’s eyes was wild, unhinged, and the newcomer turned away rather quickly and focused his gaze solely on Dongmin.

“Would you like the seat back?” the newcomer asked.

Dongmin couldn’t help but smile. “No.”

The newcomer stood anyway and quickly made his way to where Dongmin was, eyeing the praying man with distaste. “I see now why you let me have the seat so easily. He’s…” The newcomer trailed off, but Dongmin understood. That man was too much for words.

“Anyway,” the newcomer continued, clearing his throat. “Why are you in here?”

“My best friend is an idiot and left me alone in an abandoned building. The police think I took drugs, but I didn’t.”

“Why do they think that?”

“I kinda laughed when they asked,” Dongmin muttered sheepishly. When the newcomer snorted, Dongmin sought to clarify his own actions. “It was...it was dumb, but sometimes I get these bouts of nervous laughter, you know? And getting questioned by the police in the middle of the night, that...that did it for me.”

The newcomer nodded his head in understanding. “You’re not used to this, are you?”

“No,” Dongmin admitted. “Are you?”

“Nope. Well, I mean, I was in a holding cell once before, back home in Jinju.”

“You’re from Jinju? That explains your accent.”

The newcomer nodded his head. “And you’re from Seoul? Gangnam district?”

“How’d you know?”

“Your jacket.” The newcomer gestured. “You’re in high school?”

Dongmin forgot he was wearing an old high school hoodie. He felt a bit embarrassed and he hoped he wasn’t blushing too much. “Ah, no. Just...something I threw on. I’m in college.”

The newcomer smiled, a nice, genuine smile. He looked so much younger when he smiled, but he said, “I’m in college, too. I’m a dance major.”

“Dance?” Dongmin blinked. He had definitely met his fair share of dance majors before; Jinwoo was involved in the program at their university. He just had never met a dance major who looked as elegant and cool as the newcomer. “What type of dance?” he asked, curious.

“Ballet.”

“Ballet? You have...I mean, are ballet dancers allowed to have piercings?” 

The newcomer laughed. It was a pleasant sound, and his lips curled upwards in an even brighter smile as he touched his own ears. “I mean, I don’t wear them when I’m doing ballet, unless the dance calls for it. I like other types of dances, too. I was doing some freestyle on the sidewalk when an old lady called the cops on me. Said I was disturbing her business.” 

Well, that explained the outfit. Dongmin figured he must have been styling to pop music. Didn’t those pop stars wear interesting outfits? Dongmin couldn’t remember. He chose to focus on the topic at hand rather than the clothing choice, though.

“ _ Were _ you disturbing her business?” he asked. 

“I don’t know.” The newcomer’s smile disappeared. “I’d feel bad if I was. I mean, she could’ve just asked me to stop.”

“And the police didn’t ask you to stop? They just arrested you?”

“Well, apparently what I was doing was illegal. I needed a permit to dance, or something. I wasn’t aware. It’s all a dumb misunderstanding, though. My friend is coming to pick me up. He’s probably going to never let me live this down.”

Dongmin nodded his head. At least the newcomer wasn’t some sort of hardened criminal like the others in the cell seemed to be. At least he wasn’t crazy and tattooed and banging on the bars. Thank God for small blessings.

The newcomer spoke again, his voice low. Dongmin had to strain to listen. “What’s your name?”

“I’m, uh, Lee Dongmin.”

“Park Minhyuk.” The newcomer smiled as he gave his own name, a small, charming smile like the ones he had given just minutes prior. Dongmin decided he could look at that smile all day long, if he was able to, and he wanted to make Minhyuk continue to smile.

“Nice name,” he said, figuring doling out compliments would be the best way to get that smile to stay. “I’m, um...I’m happy I met you in here. I mean, not in  _ here _ , necessarily, since I think our first meeting should’ve been elsewhere, but since our paths might not cross, then I guess here is fine.”

Minhyuk stared at him. He had a piercing gaze, and Dongmin found himself a little flustered to be put under such scrutiny. He tried to hold Minhyuk’s stare as long as he could, but he finally averted his eyes and cleared his throat. 

“Oh,” said Minhyuk, as if discovering something interesting. “I’m...I’m happy to meet you, too.”

Dongmin felt quite foolish. He nodded his head again and kept his eyes focused on the ground. Minhyuk made some conversation here and there, but Dongmin was too embarrassed to keep it up as much as he would like.

Minhyuk’s friend came to gather him first. He was a tall, lanky guy with an exasperated stare and an apologetic tone. He scoffed as the policeman opened the cell, and instantly began berating, “Are you serious, Minhyuk? You think you’re so cool, don’t you?  _ Look at me, I’m Park Minhyuk and I’m in jail for being an idiot _ .” 

Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “Pipe down, dumbass.” 

“You call me a dumbass and expect me to rescue you? Real mature, Minhyuk. Honestly, I’m—”

But Minhyuk seemed done talking to his friend. He looked over to Dongmin instead and asked, “Are you smart?”

“Huh?” Dongmin asked, stupidly.

“Are you smart?” Minhyuk repeated. When Dongmin gave him a blank stare, he sighed. “Are you good at math? Memorizing numbers?”

Dongmin had no idea what the question meant, but he nodded his head anyway. “Y-Yeah. I can...yeah, I can memorize numbers.”

And so Minhyuk suddenly spouted off several numbers, and Dongmin continued to stare blankly at him. When Minhyuk repeated himself a second time, Dongmin realized he was being fed a cell phone number.

“What’s…?” he started, and Minhyuk smiled at him.

“That’s my number. Give me a call when you get out of here, ‘kay?”

Dongmin was struck silent once more, and Minhyuk merely giggled (he  _ giggled _ , and he did it so cutely) before following his friend out of the holding cell.

Dongmin passed the time by repeating the number to himself, over and over again, and grinning like an idiot behind his hands.

Maybe he ought to thank Myungjun for this. It turned out to be far more valuable of an experience than he assumed it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


End file.
